


catcher in the rye

by dreamrecurrentdreams



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grieving for Lost Loved Ones, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamrecurrentdreams/pseuds/dreamrecurrentdreams
Summary: Police dispatch tells him they’ve received reports of a homeless unstable individual disrupting the peace down by the Bow Bridge in Central Park.He listens to the officer on the other end clear her throat. “We’ve got a male EDP. Tall, white, likely under the influence. Appears to have tattooed hands —“And that’s how Diego finds Emotionally Disturbed Person Klaus Hargreeves sprawled out on the bank of the Lake, arguing animatedly with the thin air.





	catcher in the rye

**Author's Note:**

> was working on the next chapter of "tell me when (you're gonna let me in)" when my dorm came up with a timed fanfiction writing challenge -  
> and then i spent the rest of my day writing this :>  
> set in an alternate timeline where there was no apocalypse but diego still lost eudora and klaus still lost dave - i imagine klaus and dave met during the twenty-first century.

Police dispatch tells him they’ve received reports of a homeless unstable individual disrupting the peace down by the Bow Bridge in Central Park. They don’t know they’re telling him, of course; the stolen police scanner sits on his dashboard, crackling intermittently with the information that he’s been waiting for.

He listens to the officer on the other end clear her throat. “We’ve got a male EDP. Tall, white, likely under the influence. Appears to have tattooed hands — “

And that’s how Diego finds Emotionally Disturbed Person Klaus Hargreeves sprawled out on the bank of the Lake, arguing animatedly with the thin air. At least Klaus is dressed somewhat appropriately for the frigid weather, Diego thinks resignedly, in a fur coat two sizes too large for him. Klaus’s bleeding knuckles, cracked from the cold, tell a different story, though.

With a sigh, Diego sits down and reaches over wordlessly to take Klaus’s hands in his. Klaus’s skin is chilled under his, and he squeezes Klaus’s fingers to warm them up. Years ago, he’d done the same thing for Klaus when they were both young, when Klaus would come to dinner after training sessions at the mausoleum with glassy gray eyes that threatened to shatter at any moment and Diego would reach under the dinner table to hold his trembling hand. Klaus had always felt deathly cold and Diego had in turn always felt searing hot emotion, anger and fear and panic at the thought that maybe this time the ghosts had gotten to his brother and it was all their father’s fault, an all-consuming heat that he’d tried to transfer back to Klaus the best he can. And he thought he’d succeeded for a time, until Ben died and then everything fell apart.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

When Diego looks up to meet his gaze, Klaus smiles at him. “Fancy seeing you here, dear brother of mine. What brings you to my humble abode?”

“Rumor has it there’s some crazy guy going around Central Park scaring away all the normal people. Thought I’d swing by to say hi.”

Klaus bursts into delighted laughter at that. “I see what you did there! Rumor has it. Very funny. That’s Allison’s thing.” He frowns. “Well, I could’ve sworn it used to be Allison’s thing but I don’t think she’s done it in a while. When did she stop?”

“Probably when her husband divorced her and won custody of the kid,” Diego replies without batting an eye and Klaus huffs at him.

“Way to kill the mood.”

“Growing up in a situation as shitty as ours tends to do that, yeah.”

“Aww, I see someone hasn’t gotten over their daddy issues.”

“Neither have you.”

At this, Klaus pauses to peer at him. “You usually get mad at me when I bring up dear old dad like that. But you’re calm. Abnormally calm, even if abnormal is the normal for people like us, if I do say so myself.”

He doesn’t ask Diego what’s wrong. He doesn’t have to, because he knows how much it’s cost Diego over the years to maintain his pride.

“Eudora’s dead,” Diego says, and speaking her absence into being buries itself in his ribcage like the hilt of a knife. He hadn’t expected the words to come out but they have, and he can’t ever take them back

Next to him, Klaus is quiet, shifts their hands so his palms are turned upward, so his fingers interlock with Diego’s. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK.”

“No, it’s not,” Klaus replies steadily, and the grief guts Diego for a moment.

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Do you want me to look for her?” When he looks at Klaus, Klaus’s gaze is focused.

“I can’t. I can’t face her until I catch her killers.”

Klaus hums at that. “That’s interesting, I’ve got the exact opposite problem.”

“What?”

“I tried sobering up to see him and it nearly killed me,” Klaus says, like he’s talking about the weather. “God, Diego, do you know how fucking hard it is to quit cold turkey? And I did it because Dave was worth every single moment of it.” Klaus closes his eyes. “He loved me, you know?”

“He must have been a special person to put up with your weird-ass shit.”

Klaus opens his eyes and laughs. “Yeah he was.” He inhales, then exhales, releasing one shuddering breath. “He was kind and strong and vulnerable and beautiful. And I’ve given everything I have and more to try to see him but I can’t. I might never see him again at this rate.”

Diego says nothing. What could he possibly say to that? So they both sit in the silence. Diego looks down at their hands. At least Klaus’s fingers aren’t purple anymore. But his black nail polish is chipped and the skin around his nails is raw, like he’s been picking at it repeatedly, like he’s been trying to peel away his body.

And suddenly Diego’s eleven and at the dinner table, his heart hammering at the thought that the ghosts are going to take Klaus one day, that they’re going to pluck his soul straight from his body and make off with it in the night. He tightens his grip.

“Hey Diego, where do the ducks go when the lake’s frozen over?”

Diego stares at him.“What?”

“You know. The story of _The Catcher in the Rye_. Tormented protagonist Holden Caulfield goes around the city stewing in his angst because he can’t stand the thought that people and things change. Ring a bell? ”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Klaus says, drawing out the word. “There’s these scenes at the start of the book where Holden’s asking people where the ducks go in the wintertime. And nobody has the answer, so he goes to the lake himself and realizes the ducks aren’t coming back and that he’s going to have to live the rest of his life knowing his brother’s dead and not coming back either. You know.”

Klaus smiles, but his eyes don’t. “Funny the way life imitates art, huh?”

“The ducks come back, dumbass.” Diego’s voice comes out louder than he expected but he doesn’t care, not with the panic surging through him. “The ducks are only gone because it’s too fucking cold for them to survive New York winters so they have to go somewhere warmer. They’re going to come back when things become unfrozen. So things don’t have to end here, OK? You hear me?”

”You always get fired up about these kinds of things, huh?” Klaus replies. But his eyes are warmer, and his hands too, so Diego loosens his grip and lets go of Klaus’s hands.

Hands freed, Klaus hooks one finger around the dogtags dangling from his neck. He hadn’t had those the last time Diego had seen him. They must’ve been Dave’s. “So great, the ducks have somewhere to go home. I can’t say the same for myself.”

“You can stay at my place. Until you get back up on your feet.”

“You said that the last five times too, Diego. What makes you think things are going to be different?”

“I don’t know,” Diego says. The words are unfamiliar to him, take an effort to come out, but Klaus deserves his honesty. “I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you too. It’s just enough that you’re here. We can figure out all that other shit tomorrow, OK?”

Klaus meets Diego’s eyes, searches his gaze. “OK,” Klaus says at last. “OK, fine. I’ll come with. For now, that is.”

They both rise to their feet. Klaus staggers as he stands up and Diego pulls him up to steady his balance.

“What are you, Bambi?”

“Fuck you,” Klaus snips back. “I’m going to grow up into a majestic stag, just you wait.”

“Klaus, you’re a grown-ass man. There’s no more growing up for you to do.”

Klaus punches his shoulder. “I’m still young and beautiful, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Diego says and watches Klaus smile, a real smile this time, and thinks that at least for today, he hasn’t lost Klaus to the ghosts. “Let’s go home then.”

**Author's Note:**

> (title is in reference to "the catcher in the rye" by j.d salinger.  
> wildly enough, the prompt for the writing challenge was "for some reason ducks are a crucial part of your story")


End file.
